Moist
by The Dragon's Scribe
Summary: A mixture of super-moist-chocolate-cake, celebration, jokes, and decorating. What could go wrong? Warning: possible character death, strong language, and questionable perspectives.


**A/N: This was written on a whim and at the prodding of the "Super Moist" challenge hosted by Tumblr user "wtffanfiction".**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT.**

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He glanced the kitchen over with soft blue eyes, taking in the dark room silently. Usually he'd be at the stove cooking up a storm for breakfast. Not today. He smirked and glanced over his shoulder at the living room where his brothers were scattered around the room hanging streamers and banners. He'd already finished with his own special project and couldn't wait to present it to his father.

It was Master Splinter's birthday today.

"Mikey, did you get the cake ready?" Leo asked in a whisper as he moved to the couch, dropping into it with a sigh. Mikey grinned wide and stuck his thumb out at his eldest brother. "Shell yeah, dude. It's a masterpiece."

Raph rolled his eyes and Don straightened with worry as they took their own spots next to Leo on the couch. "Mikey, you didn't make it another experiment of flavor did you? I don't think Sensei's digestive tract can handle something like that without another case of acid reflex."  
Mikey snickered and waved it off. "Nah, don't worry, dude. It's a super-moist-chocolate-cake." He said, leaning against the wall and rubbing the back of his knuckles on his shell in afterthought, looking very smug indeed.

"Super moist?" Leo couldn't help from asking, frowning at his baby brother.

"That sounds gross. The word 'moist' should never be used in any sentence, man." Raph commented, crossing his arms in front of his plastron with a disgusted expression.

"Actually, Raph, the word 'moist'-when involving cake-is a manner of figurative language used in regard to a culinary piece of great texture." Don said with a knowing smirk. "It means it's going to be really good." He added.

"I don't care. It's disgusting, quit saying it." Raph hissed at Don.

"Moist! Moist! Moist!" Mikey shouted in a whisper at his red masked brother as he moved and plopped onto the couch next to Don and as far away from Raph he could be.

"I swear, Mikey, I'm going to rip you right out of your shell," he hissed at the orange masked turtle who only grinned in reply.

"Cool it, hot head, Splinter's coming!" Leo cut in with a whisper and the four turtles turned in the direction of the sound of their father's footsteps. They perked up as their master entered the room and took in the sight of streamers and banners with the words 'happy birthday' on them. He glanced at his sons who jumped to their feet with bright grins. "Happy Birthday, Master Splinter!" They shouted in unison. The ninja master sighed and smiled.

"Thank you, my sons. I am that surprised you four were able to cooperate so quietly on all of this." He said with a gesture to the streamers and banners. The four turtles exchanged glances and Don nudged Mikey with his elbow. The younger turtle nudged Don back sharply and the purple masked turtle shot him a glare. "The cake." He whispered. Mikey blinked and he nodded. "Oh yeah! Yo, Master Splinter. You should come to the kitchen." He said as he headed in that direction. Splinter glanced at his other three sons with raised brows. They smiled warmly at him. He shook his head with a snort as he followed Mikey. This would not have been the first time his sons had celebrated his birthday with a nasty surprise intended for him. The last time had ended in an unsuccessful attempt to ambush the sensei with silly string and itching powder.

"I baked you a chocolate cake." Mikey said with a grin. "You like chocolate, right?" He asked with a more serious expression as they entered the kitchen, Leo, Raph, and Don falling in step behind their father.

"Of course, Michelangelo," Splinter said as he approached the raised concrete flat that was their kitchen table. "It is an excellent choice for flavor."  
Mikey slid the birthday cake out in front of the sensei. Splinter scanned the cake over. The words 'Happy Birthday' were written in green frosting on the cake in long curving strokes. "Your handwriting is impeccable, my son." The master commented. Mikey beamed. "It is pretty great isn't it?" He said with a wiggle of his brows at his brothers. Leo and Don rolled their eyes while Raph made a face at Mikey. The younger turtle stuck his tongue out at Raph before turning back to Master Splinter.

"Mikey baked that all on his own, Sensei. Pretty good, huh?" Leo said, taking a step forward and smiling at his youngest brother. The sensei nodded.  
"Pfft. Hard to believe that one." Raph muttered to Don who only rolled his eyes and shook his head. Mikey huffed out an irritated breath. "The cake is super MOIST, sensei, so I'm sure you'll like it. Because it's super **_moist_**, and_** moist**_ cake is the best cake because _**moist**_ is good in cake science." Mikey said loudly and his father stared at him with a raised brow.

"I'm certain it is a very... moist... cake, Michelangelo."

Raph swore under his breath at Mikey, Don held him back, wrapping a hand around his upper arm. "Raph, it's just a word. Go get the presents so we can get started." Don whispered. Raph shot him a glare but sighed and moved off.

"Don't worry, Raph, I'll save a nice MOIST slice for you!" Mikey called at the retreating shell of his brother. There was a collective sigh from Leo and Don at the sound of Raphael's irritated snarl from across the lair. Splinter eyed his sons, but remained silent. He wasn't curious enough to know why 'moist' was the trigger word to anger Raphael. Don went to work on the cake, cutting slices with a tanto. His tongue poked out of his mouth as he concentrated on making the slices the exact same shape and size. Leo sat next to Splinter at the table while Mikey sat across from Leo on Splinter's other side.

"So, Sensei, any birthday wishes today?" Leo asked as Don slid a slice of cake on a plate in front of Splinter.

The ninja master smirked at his eldest son. "Indeed, Leonardo."

"Really? What did you wish for, Sensei?" Don asked as he cut a slice for himself and Raph.

"One mustn't tell a birthday wish, Donatello." Splinter reminded his son.

"Pfft, suuure, Sensei. We all know what that means." Mikey said with a roll of his eyes. Leo took a bite of the cake and chewed as he gave Mikey a puzzled expression. The cake was pretty moist.

"Well we all know that a certain Sensei's been missing his A-game." Mikey said with a wink. Splinter stared at Mikey. Don stared at Mikey. Leo stared at Mikey, frozen in mid-chew. All three of them waiting for Mikey to continue.

"You know, like hitting it up at a club, Sensei."

"Mikey," Don began, wide-eyed. Leo looked mortified. Mikey stared at them for a moment before his face became a mask of disgust.

"Ewwww! No! You guys are gross! Dirty-minded mutants! I was talking about a book club!"

Don blanched and Leo broke into nervous laughter, the cake shooting to the back of his throat. He suddenly began wheezing, eyes wide. He clutched at his throat making struggling squeaking sounds as he fought to dislodge the cake. It's moist texture sunk into his throat, unwilling to move.

Don snickered despite himself. "Leo, you really shouldn't eat so fast."

Mikey burst out laughing. "Dude! Talk about ninja-esque! Defeated by a slice of cake!"

Leo stumbled back, one arm pin-wheeling as he lost his balance and crashed to the ground on his shell, gasping desperately for air. Don stiffened in horror as he realized that Leo was actually in trouble. Splinter moved swiftly, dropping to his son's side, eyes scanning over him-uncertain and afraid.  
Mikey's eyes had screwed shut and he stumbled back, into a wall, laughing harder and unable to stop at the sight of his eldest brother losing a battle to a slice of cake.

"Donatello," Splinter snapped sharply, shaking Don out of his stupor. Don slid to Leo's side and met his father's gaze. Leo twitched between them, his body rocking with desperate coughs as his body fought to dislodge the food in his throat.

"Donatello, the Heimlich maneuver. I cannot do it without hurting him." Splinter spoke swiftly.

"Master, it won't work. Our plastrons-they're-they're too thick." Don sputtered in panic. "Donatello!" Splinter interjected sharply and all hesitation and doubt fled the purple masked turtle's features. He moved behind his brother as Splinter lifted Leo into a sitting position. Don wrapped his arms around Leo as he moved into the Heimlich maneuver. He struggled against Leo's plastron as he fought to help his brother. Leo struggled in his grip, rasping and clutching at his throat with one hand. His free hand shot out and gripped Splinter's robe. Leonardo's wild and desperate blue gaze met Splinter's anxious almond toned eyes. His eyes rolled back as he went limp in Don's arms, body trembling and throat still making gasping sounds.  
Mikey stared, his eyes wide in horror and his laughs escalating into manic driven shrieks.

Raph stepped into the kitchen, carrying several wrapped boxes. "I swear, Mikey, if you say the word one more," he began only to freeze at the sight of the kitchen. The presents struck the ground, their contents smashing and cracking within the cardboard confines. "Wh-What the... what happened?" He managed as he took a tentative step forward.

Mikey broke into laughter again, sliding to the ground and shaking his head.

Raph whirled on his youngest brother. "Is this a fucking joke?" He whirled on his father and other brothers. "Is this a fucking joke?" He reiterated.

Don ignored his brother and continued to struggle through the Heimlich maneuver against Leo's stiff plastron. The blue masked turtle was limp in his arms, eyes rolled back, mouth ajar, and head lolling back. Gasping for air as his body slowly shut down, unable to sustain itself without oxygen.  
Splinter stiffly rose to his feet. "Raphael," he began in a voice that made it known to all those in the room that Splinter had accepted Leo's death before the youth had even died.

Raph stared, his eyes betraying his confusion. His brows furrowed and un-furrowed, as if he wasn't sure whether to be angry or not. His rage fled him and he dropped his green gaze to the still figure of his eldest brother in Don's feeble attempt at the Heimlich maneuver. He stared and felt something cold and slick run down the back of his throat. He swallowed it down and was too aware of the moist sensation it left in his throat. He trembled and tensed. Why wasn't he angry? Why couldn't he be angry?

Mikey's shrill laughter continued as background noise to his own horror. He suddenly felt very alone at the sight of his soon-to-be-dead brother. He drew in a ragged breath and stared as Don made mournful and pathetic mewling sounds. Raphael couldn't be angry for this. He felt empty. He wanted to be angry. He wanted rage. But it wouldn't come and that bothered him. It bothered him that he was more afraid of his anger leaving him than Leo dying. What kind of brother does that?

Mikey clutched his face in his hands and continued to laugh, barking out sounds too harsh for his hearing. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes as he only laughed harder. His shoulders rocked as sobs mixed with the laughter, but still he could hear the humor in his voice's contortions. It shouldn't be funny, but he couldn't stop laughing. Why was he laughing at his brother? Why was he laughing at Leo's face as his older brother was dying?  
It was an expression of shock. Leo looked surprised, as he damn well should be. He'd been trained in ninjitsu his entire life. He'd been molded into a deadly warrior and capable leader. He had become a dangerous adversary. He had been all of this, and he was choking to death on a moist cake. Some stupid notion of moist and its effect on the word cake had taken out the fearless leader. Dispatched him. The one who was supposed to die at another's blade or fall on his own. Death by a moist cake slice.

Mikey shook his head and uttered a harsh cackle that stabbed in pinpricks of pain throughout his throat.

It hadn't even been a slice of cake. It hadn't been a mouthful. Leo was going to die by choking on a bite of super moist chocolate birthday cake. Celebrating life and finding death. Mikey covered his mouth, stopping himself from uttering another cackle. Irony had no decorum.

Donatello refused to stop, despite the time drawing to a close. He refused to believe that with all of his studying, all of his time spent reading, and learning more than basic first aid-he couldn't save Leo from a stupid cake. Why didn't he bother trying to figure out how to apply the Heimlich maneuver to a turtle? Why did he bother learning things that were only useful to humans? Why did he bother learning at all if this was the result? Leo had been trained to handle any situation calmly for sixteen years and it hadn't mattered in the short ten minutes it had taken for Leo to die.

Don opened his eyes, barely aware that he had shut them and he stared at Leo's body. He'd counted every second. All six hundred of them. It was too late. Leo was dead. For certain. There was no going back now. No fixing his older brother up. Leo was dead. Finality personified in the moment. But he couldn't bring himself to stop trying. He couldn't stop pushing against Leo's tough plastron. He couldn't feel the comforting rhythmic beat of Leo's thumping heart anymore. He wanted it back. He wanted it to comfort him.

He buried his face into his brother's neck as hot tears raced down his cheeks. Still, he wouldn't stop trying.

Splinter stood in the midst of the madness, forced to endure all of his sons' tragic realizations-forced to endure their forms of grieving. The loneliness from all those years ago stung once more as his "band of freaks" dwindled to four. Fear, for his family, clung to his crumbling identity. Leonardo had died within ten minutes and he had been unable to do anything about it. He had been unprepared. He had been a fool. His family was not invincible-never had been-and yet he had believed they were. He had been a fool to make that same mistake twice. Ninja training would not protect them. He could not protect them. They would all die, whether he tried to save them or not-they would die. Today or tomorrow, it did not matter. They suffered here. Perhaps Leonardo was finally free-free of suffering.

Splinter flinched at Mikey's harsh laughs and his ears fell back as he bowed his head. It wasn't just Leonardo who'd died then. Splinter's gaze scanned over the kitchen and he turned away, unable to bear the sight of another of his loved ones dead. Of any of them dead. Michelangelo, Raphael, and Donatello were dead as well. Their innocence extinguished. Their courage shattered. Their bond broken.

It was all because of a bite of moist cake.

Splinter understood. He suddenly understood why Raphael hated the word and all its unpleasantness. Splinter now hated it too.

It had taken his eldest from him.

He closed his eyes and heaved a deep breath. "Donatello. Stop. It is over, my son."

The purple masked turtle flinched at Splinter's words. He refused to look up at his father. He refused to admit that the brother in his arms was dead despite the stillness of Leo's body. The stiffness in his form. The silence of his breath. What was he thinking? What would denial do for him or for Leo? It wouldn't bring Leo back and it certainly wasn't helping the situation.

Donatello raised his gaze to his father's and nodded stiffly. He relaxed his grip on Leo and laid his brother flat on the ground, swallowing back emotions as he did so.

Splinter turned to Raphael and placed a hand on his son's shoulder. Raph hadn't moved from his spot since he had begun to understand the situation. Not since he'd realized his brother and his anger had fled him and left him vulnerable. He stared at Leo's unmoving body and trembled as he fought to feel something. Some sort of anger. Something. He took a shaking step forward. He took another and another until he was standing over the corpse of his brother. He stared at Leo's facial expression and shivered. Splinter watched silently.

Raphael suddenly uttered a shriek of horror and rage as he drew back a leg and kicked Leo's corpse in the abdomen, sending the body into a roll at Don. The purple masked turtle flinched and stumbled back in shock, mouth agape in horror. Splinter's eyes went wide and he snatched Raph by the shoulders.

Raph fought against his father's grip, trying to get at Leo's body-trying to get at his smug older brother while his anger was back in place. He snapped and screamed at his family before freezing at the sound of Mikey's laughter. All eyes turned on the orange masked turtle.

He clutched his arms around his body desperately as harsh laughter leapt from his throat at the sight of his big brother's corpse lifted off the floor by Raph's kick and hitting Don. It was so absurd. They were all losing it so quickly. Why was it so funny? He should be crying. He should be shocked. He should be anything.

Anything but laughing.

Raphael fumed at the sight of his laughing brother and shook his father off as he was suddenly in front of Mikey, gripping him roughly by the shoulders. "Why are you laughing?! You think this fucking mess is funny?!" He snarled.

Mikey's laughs died to a low chuckle and his soft blue gaze rose to meet Raphael's. The red masked brother stilled at the sight.

Tears streamed down Mikey's cheeks. His eyes were red rimmed. "I just can't stop." He whispered in a small voice, searching Raph's eyes desperately. "It's just so funny, y'know. We were just talking. We were home. It was supposed to be a fun day... and now he's dead."

"He choked on a slice of cake." He continued quietly before succumbing to a short fit of chuckles. He sobered quickly and met Raph's gaze again. "Moist. A moist slice of cake."

Raph brought a fist back to strike his baby brother out of anger. How dare he make that stupid joke while Leo lay dead in the room?! What gave him the right to do that?! Raph trembled with rage, his fist shaking.

A hand settled on his shoulder and Raph whirled around, ready to strike the one who would interfere. Only it was Don's somber features that froze him in place. His soft almond colored eyes captured the look of anguish on Raph's face. The red masked turtle stared at Donatello. His fist dropped to his looked back at Mikey and he understood then. It was a moist cake. It was a moist morning. It was a moist celebration. Something totally and utterly disgusting. They had no word for their situation-Leo's anti-climatic and unjust death. They could have said despairing, devastating, or horrifying. But words according to their definitions could not accurately describe their situation. There was no word they could hate more-no word with a stronger sense of disgust and anger embedded within it other than that horrible one syllable creature:_ moist_.

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**A/N: I'm sorry if you thought this was going to be happy.**


End file.
